Wisp
by Alex L. Kerr
Summary: Sam completes the third trial. Completely alternate version of S8's ending. Inspired by S08E23's promo images of Sam. Tags: Season Eight, Sick!Sam, Hurt!Sam, BigBro!Dean, Brotherly Love
1. Chapter 1

**Writer's Note 1: Found the image I wrote this fic to via tumblr, so hey: this is a x-post from tumblr! **

**...By the way, I _have_ a tumblr, haha. Follow me & I'll follow ya back at alexlkerr dot tumblr dot com. **

**Writer's Note 2: I literally couldn't get the image that inspired this story out of my head. It's the cover to this story - you can visit my tumblr to see it full-sized. Otherwise, really just any of those promo shots of Sam from Sacrifice will get you feeling feelings before you start reading even the first word of this fic...**

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**_Wisp_**

"Sam?" Dean said quietly, slowing his approach.

Sam flinched, looking up with glassy, unfocused eyes.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice scratched and raw. He looked down and set his palms on the bench, readying himself to stand up. He breathed deeply, gathering resolve, knowing this was the last leg - final yard - the end he'd spoken about so hopefully in the Impala just a week or two ago. He wasn't getting any better. Every second's delay was a couple degrees and a few notches against his health.

Sam doubled over slowly, overwhelmed, and hoped it looked like he was simply getting ready to stand up.

"Sammy," Dean whispered, making sure no one else heard. Sam felt Dean's hand brush the back of his head carefully, then move down to squeeze his shoulder. Sam swallowed and nodded, still staring at the floor.

"C'mon Sam," Dean said, moving his arm around to Sam's back and gripping him carefully. Dean was a strong, steady support as Sam lifted up from the bench and stumbled into him.

"Hey-hey-hey okay, I gotchya," Dean murmured again, so quietly that Kevin couldn't hear. Dean had to ignore the angels in their presence - he knew they could hear him. He glanced their way as he steadied his shaking brother. Both Metatron and Castiel kept down-turned postures, expressions grave as they stood in position, reverently silent. It was disquieting; felt like a funeral even though Sam was right there, in Dean's arms, still alive and breathing.

Kevin just looked scared, huddling on the other side of the room away from the altar, watching them. Dean swallowed his anxiety but noticed his own trembling hands as he braced Sam up against him once more before they ventured forward together.

Small, halting steps. Sam grasped Dean's shoulder tighter at the movement. Dean returned the grip around Sam's thin waist.

Sam had lost too much weight…

_Listen, I may not be able to carry the burden that comes along with these trials, but I can carry you…_

Dean hadn't known how literal those words were turning out to be.

He hadn't known… And if he had…

Dean blinked and felt a tear roll down his cheek as Sam grabbed him again with an accompanying whimper. Dean stopped and turned, alarmed, and looked into his brother's eyes. Sam stared dazedly back and swallowed.

"Uh, sorry," Sam swallowed again, "no… 'm okay," Sam said, his voice strained, his face gaunt and hollowed out.

Dean had a sudden urge to pull Sam back and get everyone out. Burn the place - and all these sacred items laid out at the alter - down into ashes and cinder. Nothing felt right about this. God wouldn't do this…

"Dean," Sam breathed, his eyes closed.

Dean winced, still battling with himself on whether or not to call the whole thing off.

"Keep going," Sam whispered, urging his brother to start moving him again. "S'okay."

Dean's breath caught as he made Sam take another step.

"No, it's not," Dean replied thickly, his voice muffled by the echoes ricocheting off the pocked and decayed wood. Dean sniffed again, reaching the circle painted in the center of the floor.

"Okay, y-you gotta take a step up and over, Sam," Dean coached, his voice wavering dangerously. Sam lifted one foot over the white powder and landed it carefully, Dean maneuvering behind him. He glanced again at the angels, both of whom remained dead quiet and facing the floor. No doubt trying to give him the illusion that his last moments with his brother were private. No solace came from that. They all knew the odds, but the angels were acting like Sam wouldn't beat the odds. But Sam would _beat_ the odds. Like they'd always done…

_"…There is pretty much nothing the Winchesters can't do if they work together…"_

Dean recalled Charlie's words. God damn it but they weren't together on this. It was just his little brother… Dean couldn't do anything…

Sam barely cleared the line of salt, tipping too far forward until Dean pulled him back, eliciting a whimper of pain from Sam.

"Sorry-sorry," Dean whispered quickly, steadying him again. Sam grasped back onto Dean, the gesture one of automatic forgiveness.

"G-good, Sammy," Dean's voice cracked, pulling Sam into him for a hug.

Sam let out an anguished gasp, doing the best he could to return the embrace but Dean could tell that he was halfway to collapse.

Sam's head fell against Dean's shoulder, breathing heavily from the exertion. He vaguely lifted his hand to grasp Dean's shoulder.

"Sss… gonna be okay, D," Sam promised, sounding young. He sounded so young…

_Dean had just finished reading the page and began to turn to the next when Sam placed his hand on Dean's._

_"No, no more, Dean," Sam said sleepily, tucked against his brother's side on the bed._

_"What - don't you want to see if they find the grail?"_

_"Do they?"_

_"I can't tell you the ending - that'd be cheating."_

_Sam shook his head wearily and sighed as he moved in closer._

_"Sir Galahad's really cool," Sam said wistfully, nearly asleep. Dean turned to look more closely at his little brother, having detected a note of sadness in his voice, and brushed his hair back. Sam gave a deep sigh and Dean watched his little brother slip into dreams._

_"Yeah, he is," Dean agreed softly, closing the book, his work done._

Dean closed his eyes, holding himself back as best he could. He couldn't help the tears nor the small tremors that came from the fast releases of breath he had to give up as he held his little brother.

Dean barely contained the shiver of a sob and moved his hands around to Sam's waist again.

"Okay, goin' down, hold on to me," Dean ordered, his voice strained. Sam did as he was told and Dean lowered him down onto the floor. Sam started coughing as he reached a sitting position. Dean moved up closer on the floor, kneeling to grasp Sam around his back and delicately placing his other hand onto the back of Sam's head.

"You okay?" Dean asked, watching solicitously as Sam's coughs tapered off. Breathing heavily, Sam managed a small nod and looked up at his brother. Eyes worn and red, he managed a dull focus on Dean. Too much effort to make facial expressions, he stared into his brother's green eyes. Dean tried to smile and squeezed the back of Sam's neck.

"You're gonna make it, okay?" Dean said, no longer giving a shit about whether anyone could hear him. "You're gonna finish this and close the gates of hell and you're going to come back to me, you understand?" Dean ordered, his voice shaking, as he lowered Sam down to the dirt floor. Sam's eyes remained fixed on his brother, giving brief expressions of discomfort as he made his landing.

"Sammy? You hear me? You _understand_?" Dean's voice pitched with urgent anger. Sam blinked up at Dean, a tear escaping and falling down his temple.

"Dean… I don't think he can hear you anymore-" Metatron whispered hesitantly. He could hear the deafening shrill tone resonating within the room. Too many powers had already started to converge; the trial was almost under way.

Dean ignored the angel.

"Sam-?!" Dean sobbed, watching his little brother blink up at him blankly, his lids getting heavier and heavier. "Sammy-?!"

"Dean, get out of there," Castiel warned fearfully.

Dean gritted his teeth and watched Sam's eyes close, his head fall to the side.

"-_Dean_!" Castiel shouted.

With one last look, Dean wrenched himself away from his brother's side.

Just as he stepped out of the circle, a blast of heat, wind and light erupted from the center.

"_SAM_!" Dean shouted over the sharp resonances that had begun at a dull roar and kept darting into higher and higher frequencies. Terrified, Dean clasped his hands against his ears and turned around to bear witness. His brother's body had been catapulted above them and hung suspended. Streaks of light bulleted out from the altar's base to circle around and through him. Every shaft piercing through made Sam's frail body hitch and jolt in convulsions, thrashing grotesquely above their heads.

"_SAM!" _Dean screamed, every ounce of him willing for this to be over and finished and _god damn it just let it be fucking done!_

Dean felt the light and wind building. It wasn't finished. It was almost there, but it wasn't finished. The light seemed to gain in intensity along with the shrill resonances and shoot through Sam faster, relentlessly whipping him around like he was no more than a marionette hanging through lightning sharp shards of energy and force.

All at once, the light collided into itself and swirled into the form of a spear that angled itself fast and crushed into Sam's chest. Sam gasped, his eyes opening wide, shocked by the torture as the spear funneled all the way into him and lit his whole body into brilliance.

Dean watched, awestruck. Helpless.

The light twisted inside Sam, exploring the boundaries and eventually started to dim everywhere else and whistling into his right arm. As all the forces and light blew through him and into the extremity, Sam let out a scream that tore across the room's four walls and contracted his whole body to clutch at his arm.

"Sam! Sammy hold on! Hold on!" Dean yelled desperately. Sam shook violently as the light burnt him from the inside out.

"Sam!" Dean cried.

Another blast erupted around them, wind and light and the force unknown overwhelming the room for a split second before it completely vanished.

Dean watched Sam crash to the floor with a dull thud. The room was stunned silent, water dripped nearby, and all Dean could think about was that he couldn't see Sam breathing.

"_Sam_!" Dean cried out again, knocking the altar over in his haste to get to his brother. "_Sammy_!" Dean whispered, crouching down low and sliding the kid over onto his back. He realized the tears were his, falling onto the ground and over his brother's body. He pulled Sam up and onto him, cradling him in his arms. Shaking fingers stretched out and pushed to find a pulse.

"C'mon Sammy, c'mon, let me feel that heart beat-" Dean gasped, blinking his vision clear and brushing Sam's hair away from his face. "Be alive, don't you dare be dead," Dean whispered, pain and anger intermingling as he pressed and pinned his fingers against Sam's neck, unable to find it. "C'mon," he said again, his voice pitched and breaking, "C'mon…"

"-Dean," Castiel's voice rung out behind him. Dean ignored him, everything in him, every ounce of him _willing_ Sam to come back.

He heard glass shatter nearby, a simple, delicate sound. Almost like a champagne flute having been tipped over, shards clinking against each other before settling again.

And just as the sound settled, Dean felt a wisp of wind float through, gently ruffling past Sam's hair. The small pocket of air moved so deliberately and Dean watched, eyes blazing with hope and grief, as Sam took a small, shallow, unconscious breath of air.

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**Writer's Note: I'm keeping this as incomplete for the time being. I initially wanted to end it here but I'm hesitant to slam the door on it just yet. **

**Thank you so much for reading and please let me know what you thought if you can spare the time. Thank you again! ~ Alex**


	2. Chapter 2

Dean gasped his relief, feeling the small puff of air with his palm hovering over Sam's mouth. He gripped the side of Sam's face, his fingers threading through his brother's damp hair.

"Good, good Sammy, now you gotta wake up for me," Dean's voice cracked as he pulled his brother up higher against him. Sam's neck was limp as Dean angled him in the crook of his elbow and leaned forward.

"C'mon Sam, wake up for me now, gotta wake up," he whispered, his face barely an inch from Sam's. A small shiver and jolt ran through Sam's body. Dean responded with his free arm wrapping more tightly around Sam's waist.

"Sam-?"

Sam's body gave another jerk and Dean held him.

"Sam _wake up!_" Dean ordered harshly.

Sam's eyes moved beneath their lids.

"Good, Sammy, c'mon," Dean coaxed as Sam's lids briefly lifted, then shut, then tried again.

"You can do it. Wake up, wake up," Dean whispered desperately, pulling him in closer. Sam's shoulders curved in and angled towards his brother.

"De-" Sam rasped and Dean exhaled.

"Yeah I'm right here, right here, little brother," he whispered, starting to rock him in his arms.

"Dean," Sam finally got out, opening his eyes to slits. He stared up at Dean, his eyes wet, his pale, gaunt face covered in sweat. Dean nodded and brushed Sam's hair off his face.

"You're done. It's finished. You're all done, Sammy," he said softly, leaning down and touching his forehead against Sam's as he tucked his brother against him. Sam reached up weakly and Dean felt the slow grasp tightening on the fabric of his shirt.

"It's over... It's over," Dean repeated, still swaying them. He blinked when he felt Sam shift minutely and lifted up to look at him. Sam stared up at him dully but his eyes remained fixed on his brother as Dean held him. Dean pushed his hand against Sam's neck and cheek, the side of his head.

"You did so good, Sammy," Dean whispered, using his thumbs to brush more dirt off Sam's face. At the touch Sam cringed and tilted his head down against Dean's chest to choke a quiet sob. The trials had taken their toll, marking Sam with symptoms that were best likened to terminal illness and the torture he'd just endured... Sam was certain he was broken until Dean's words had started to sink in. _It's over. You're done. It's finished._ Dean's reassurances were ripping him apart so he could be put back together and everything felt overwhelming; everything _hurt_.

Dean curved over Sam and placed his hand on the back of Sam's head, anticipating the meltdown.

"I know... I know, it's okay. You get a pass on this one, man, c'mon," Dean said roughly, hefting his little brother up. Sam gasped and began to shake against Dean's chest. His feet weakly scuffed the floor as he bent them in towards his brother and Dean let him curl in.

"You're done... It's done. You're okay," Dean whispered as he wrapped his arms around him and hunched over. He moved his hand to brace Sam's back, effectively covering his trembling little brother from outside eyes. Sam's hands pressed and weakly gripped Dean's shirt as he tried to keep his cries quiet. Dean leaned down, almost pressing his lips against Sam's ear.

"I gotchya. It's over, Sammy," he said over his brother's labored breathing and gave him a simple kiss against the temple. Sam let out a small whimper and gave a feeble nod against Dean's chest. Dean rocked them back and forth, feeling his Sam's tears and sweat dampening his shirt. Dean just held his shivering little brother tighter and bent his head low against Sam's, a silent gesture of solidarity and affection as Sam struggled with the overflow. He started rubbing Sam's back lightly.

"Are you hurt?" he whispered.

"N-no," Sam's voice cracked, breathing heavily. His grip around Dean tightened and Dean kept moving his hand against Sam's back soothingly.

"Good. That's good, Sammy," he replied calmly. "Can I take you out of here?"

Dean felt Sam start to take deeper breaths against him. His whole body still quivering from the final trial's effects, he still tried to get himself under control for Dean.

"Y-yeah," he quavered.

At that, Sam felt Dean move his arms around his upper back and knew his brother didn't want to waste time getting them out of there. Before he could bring his feet out from under him he felt his big brother pull him up.

Sam knew he'd lost weight but it hadn't occurred to him that he'd become so thin that Dean could hold him this easily. He keened at the move in surprise and grew dizzy as he reached full height.

"Easy, Sammy, easy. I gotchya," Dean murmured, enveloping Sam in another embrace, only this time it was for stability. "I gotchya, just hold on to me," he continued, and Sam leaned in closer, still trembling. He fought for steady breath over Dean's shoulder, blinking out at their surroundings with red, blood-shot eyes.

The angels stood apart from one another and watched, silently reverent and now honored to have borne witness. Kevin still stood in the back, stunned and worried for Sam.

Sam was too fragile and much too tired to be embarrassed. He'd endured all three trials and been tortured by speared shafts of light that'd felt like steel as they'd pierced in and through his body.

As if reading his mind, Dean started rubbing the spot in his back exactly where the spear's wound would've been. Sam's breath hitched and released slowly, lowering his gaze to the floor to focus on Dean's comforting presence; letting his big brother overwrite the sense-memory of the spear with a gesture that harkened back to his childhood.

The angels couldn't do anything: the final trial had required their combined grace, which they'd willingly given. The angels couldn't cure him of this. They were mortal now. Sam had reached every limit and there was no going back. There was nothing any of them knew that could heal this. They could only hope it would solve itself.

But as Sam realized he could barely stand without Dean's arms around him, it helped. Dean was going to take the reins now. Dean had him; Dean made things okay. He always did, so why _not_ believe in that now?

Sam closed his eyes and felt tears roll down his face. He sniffed and wrapped his arms tighter around his big brother.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean whispered, eventually turning to get on Sam's side. He grabbed Sam's arm as he wrapped the other around his waist and started small, slow steps towards the doors. Sam's head hung against his chest limply, his steps dragged, his knees almost buckled, but Dean held onto him. Dean wouldn't let go.

A fraction of a second later Sam felt a gentle presence on his other side. Before he could look he felt his other arm getting lifted and wrapped around shoulders for further support. He squinted over and dropped his head back down, his body still shaking with the aftershock.

"Th-thanks C-Cas," Sam rasped at the floor. He made an effort when they stepped outside the church.

"Sam, you're going to be okay. God wouldn't have created these trials if..." Cas trailed off. "You will heal," he finished. Sam tried to nod in response but gave a sharp inhale instead as they got to the first step down to the ground.

"Cas let's just get him to the car, okay?" Dean ordered. Castiel acquiesced and remained silent, carrying the man that had just rendered his grace a pale comparison.

They made it to the Impala. Dean opened the passenger seat and turned back to Sam.

"Okay c'mere," Dean whispered, reaching his arms out and letting Sam take them and stumble forward into him a little bit. "C'mon bend your knees," Dean muttered, pulling Sam down so he'd take the hint to turn and sit. Just as Sam was going down, he felt Dean's gentle hand on his head protecting him from the roof's lip. Sam sat down and leaned his face against the worn leather interior. He closed his eyes, feeling better now that he was in the Impala. Dean grabbed his legs and deftly set them into the seat well before shutting the door closed and walking to the other side.

Halfway there, he stopped and looked up, realizing Metatron, Kevin and Castiel were all outside watching anxiously.

"Dean... is he going to be okay?" Kevin asked solicitously. Dean furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

"Yes."

Metatron gave a tiny satisfied smile and nodded, folding his arms over his chest.

Dean winced, considering the now-mortal angels and their paranoid prophet, then rolled his eyes at the roster. He glanced at Cas, who looked carefree yet expectant, willing to receive Dean's next words with a faith he'd earned.

"Get in the car," Dean ordered, waving at all of them without a backwards glance and getting into the driver's seat. He slammed the door and waited half a second before Kevin opened the door behind Sam and clambered in.

"Kevin grab the blanket from the back," Dean asked, starting the engine just as Castiel got into the middle of the bench seat, followed closely by Metatron. Kevin reached the blanket forward. Dean took it and flipped it out over Sam.

Sam jerked, surprised, but settled when he realized what it was. Dean patted the blanket around his pale brother but Sam raised an arm over to vaguely reach for Dean.

Dean took it without hesitation, squeezed, and let go to brush the wet hair out of Sam's eyes before shifting the car and speeding the hell out of there.

The trials were done.

Dean was taking Sam home.

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**Writer's Note: **Aww and so here was the blubbery schmoop h/c fall out, lol. Thank you so much for reading - please comment/review if you can spare a second. Thank you again! ~ Alex


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